


Pancakes

by TeamGwenee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Modern Cop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 17:17:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21149348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: “Brienne, I’m more than happy to drive five hours from King’s Landing and live out of a hotel room to be by your side, but if you are telling me that you want me to chew up your food for you and feed you like a bird, then I am sorry but that is a step too far.”





	Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> For the Nerdy Blogger. Thanks for the prompt!

They had been driving for up to four hours. Three hours and forty-six minutes of that drive were spent in silence, the few words exchanged after getting into the car quickly sliding into silence. From the driver’s seat, Jaime kept checking to see if Brienne had dozed off. The doctors had warned that the drugs in her system were likely to leave her drowsy. A few times he had caught her with her eyes shut and lips parted, a faint line between her forehead.

Jaime was planning the best way to insist she stayed with him during her recovery, thinking of the best way to insist without making it sound like he was insisting. Or maybe he should just give in and play the Commanding Officer card?

They had the choice of waiting until morning to leave, but Brienne had insisted on getting out as soon as possible. She claimed she didn’t want to use up the bed any longer than necessary, for it was a small hospital. She also requested that they travel straight for King’s Landing, instead of resting for a day or so in a nearby hotel. 

Brienne wanted to travel at night, the hours of being hidden away in Jaime’s car, driving through the darkness was a comfort.

She wanted to stay hidden for as long as possible. The neat gauze square on her cheek; white and clean, was simply not enough.

They had a doctor’s appointment scheduled on their return, where yet more people would be exposed to the jagged, livid remains of her cheek. She would have to take the bandage off as well, to let the wound breathe.

The sky was getting lighted, a steely blue poking through the dense trees. Brienne sunk deeper into her seat at the first sight of sunlight.

“What say we stop for breakfast?” Jaime suggested, his voice strained beneath his usual levity. “There’s a service station just ahead in five minutes.”

Brienne nodded tightly. The man had come out all this way from King’s Landing; put his entire life on hold to be there beside her, the last thing she could do was deprive him of his breakfast. But when they pulled up into the empty car park, Brienne shook her head and mumbled that she would wait in the car.

Jaime unbuckled her seat and prodded her in the thigh.

“Come on,” he said in a voice that brooked no arguments, “we both need to stretch our legs.”

The half-dead teenager at the till had looked at Brienne’s cheek, but less in a ‘Seven Hells how horribly disfigured that woman is’ way and more in a ‘Oh that woman has an injured cheek’ way. But of course, she still had the bandage on. She asked Jaime to order her some pancakes, the first thing she saw on the menu, and went to tuck herself into a booth, seated so that her cheek faced away from the window.

Jaime arrived with a stack of pancakes smothered in cream and fruit for her, and a breakfast sandwich that was the equivalent of a heart attack in a bap.

She frowned as Jaime pulled the pancakes towards him, slicing through the stack and cutting them into tiny, bite sized chunks. Easy for her to chew.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Repaying the favour,” he said simply. “Besides, I need the practise.” He waved his prosthetic at her.

“That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“It wasn’t when you did it for me.”

“It’s not using my hand that’s a struggle, it’s chewing.”

Jaime laid down his knife and fork and looked Brienne square in the eye. “Brienne, I’m more than happy to drive five hours from King’s Landing and live out of a hotel room to be by your side, but if you are telling me that you want me to chew up your food for you and feed you like a bird, then I am sorry but that is a step too far.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Can I have my pancakes now?”

Jaime pushed the plate towards her and pulled his own sandwich closer. He lifted it to his mouth but didn’t bite. Instead his eyes latched onto her, watching, assessing. Trying to spot any signs of fatigue or weariness. To see if the hunch of her shoulders were a cry out for a rest. But Brienne always tried to make herself smaller than she was.

“Connington has been demoted,” he announced out of the blue. “Emails in which he harassed several female officers have been leaked. There was a twitter storm, big media fallout and in the end Tarly caved.”

“That’s not like him,” Brienne said, recalling the look of contempt on his face when she had gone to him for advice as a mere rookie.

“Trying to cover his own back,” Jaime grunted in disgust. “It’s not working, about half the women who have worked with him are stepping forward with official complaints. You should speak up; your voice would do a world of good.”

Brienne raised an eyebrow. “How so?” she asked, her voice dripping with scepticism and strawberries.

Jaime reached into his pocket and presented her with a letter.

“They’re giving me a medal?” she asked incredulously.

“For acts of supreme bravery in life threatening circumstances,” Jaime quoted. His jaw tightened. “I should warn you now, with everything going on, there’s going to be press. A heroic, unconventional female officer, maimed in the line of duty, is exactly who they need to be pushing forward right now.”

Brienne stared at the letter, the pancakes in her stomach curdling with disgust. All those years, being fucked around by her superiors, losing out on assignments and promotions to male colleagues not half as competent, putting up with constant needling and being punished twice as severely for mistakes half as costly as the other officers, and expected to do so in silence lest she be accused of asking for special treatment on the grounds of being a woman.

And now they wanted her to be their posted girl for diversity and inclusivity.

“So that’s why they’re giving me the medal then?” she asked bitterly. “For the PR?”

“No,” Jaime snapped. “They’re giving you the medal because I told them to.”

Brienne’s eyes, still so young and blue, widened. “You recommended me for a medal?” she whispered.

Jaime nodded. “That’s right. And I did it because you fucking deserve it. You’re a bloody well hero and fuck anyone who says anything different.” He glared at her plate. “Now finish your pancakes, they cost seven dragons with an extra fifty stags for the cream.”

Brienne laughed incredulously.

“Don’t make me come over and feed you Tarth!” he barked in his best CO voice. “Because you know I will.”

And knowing he would, Brienne pulled the plate closer and began to eat.


End file.
